Rip Van Winkle

When Rip awoke, he found himself not in the grassy clearing where he had visited his new friends, but instead lying on the ground at the foot of the mountains, where he had first met the strange little man.

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"Oh, dear," Rip thought to himself. "I must have slept here all night long! What will I tell my wife?"

Rip called out for his dog so that they could head home. "Wolf!" he yelled. "Come here, boy!" But Wolf didn't come. "He must be off chasing a squirrel," Rip thought.

Rip headed back into the village. Once there, the people of the village began to point and laugh at Rip. Wondering why the people would do this, Rip stroked his chin. There he felt a long, gray beard. He looked to find his clothes were in tatters. Rip looked at the people, who were dressed in clothes that seemed strange to him. Even the buildings were different, with new paint and signs.

Rip left the village, worried about how different it appeared -- and how different he looked, too. He walked until he arrived at the land where his warm, sturdy home stood. As he came to the house, he expected to hear his wife's voice, scolding him for not coming home the night before. He expected to hear his children playing and his dog barking.

But Rip did not hear his wife or children. And he did not see the house he had left behind the night before. Instead, the house had fallen apart. The roof had caved in. The windows were all broken. The door had fallen off its hinges. Even the tall, proud chimney was crumbling.

Then Rip heard a dog bark. "Wolf!" he called. But although this dog looked just like Wolf, it was thin and its fur was tangled. It growled at Rip, as if it did not know who he was.